Moving On
by Psycho Sin Mafia
Summary: After the events of Saints Row: the Third, the leader of the 3rd Street Saints starts to look back on his life.
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Saints Row. This story takes place shortly after the events of Saints Row: The third, going off of the Save Shaundi ending, with the Gangsta's in Spaces ending not have happened yet.

Jack Spade leader of the world famous gang, the 3rd Street Saints, closes his eyes tightly as he tried in vain to focus on the voices of his leutenints. Ignoring their questions of concern, he stormed out of the meeting room, and up to his loft in the penthouse, overlooking Steelport. Walking into the bathroom, he turned on the sink and splashed water onto his face a few times. Sighing he looked at himself in the mirror. Staring into his reflection his face became harder with each breath, as though looking at himself was making him angry. Grabbing the revolver from his belt, he smashed the mirror and stormed out, not caring where he walked. So it was no real surprise when he tripped and fell onto the living room floor.

Rolling onto his back, Spade silently cursed as he found his thoughts once again returning to the faces. The faces of friends who had died in helping him, Lin, Carlos, Aisha, Johnny, the Saints whose names he had never learned. Covering his eyes with the back of his gloved hand, Spade tried to ignore the ever familiar pang that went though him whenever he thought of Lin, the Chinese-American beauty who had infiltrated the Roller gang. She had been one of his first real friends when he joined the Saints. They had often hung out, since most rollers weren't aware of whom he was until later into the gang war. If he tried hard enough, the gang leader was positive he could still smell the perfume she wore when she drowned in the trunk of her own car, having been unable to save herself.

Carlos Mendoza, now there was a huge can of emotional worms. For nearly 6 months after his death, Spade couldn't close his eyes without seeing the bloody Carlos in front of his, weakly clasping his hand as the barrel of the revolver is pointed at his head. While Carlos was sometimes annoying, his heart was in the right place, and was a generally likeable guy. At least he had been able to avenge him in style, trapping that bitch Jessica in her own trunk and having her boyfriend crush her was possible one of his finest works of art.

Aisha, Johnny's longtime on-again off-again girlfriend, who died warning Spade and Gat about the Ronin ambush: which possibly saved their lives. Spade knew that Johnny never truly got over Aisha's death, even after giving that arrogant punk Shojo his own ticket to hell. After her passing, it seemed like Johnny didn't care if he lived or died. The one good thing about Gat's death did was reunite the two of them after death. Provided of course that was what happens when one dies.

Ahh, Johnny Gat. Thinking back, Gat was the best back-up a gang member could ask for. A fighter with a bloodlust to match his own, the two of them were a pair of murder machines back in the day. Spade grinned, remembering the last job they pulled together, the bank robbery where he had proclaimed "Who wouldn't want to be Johnny Gat?', before the two of them, Shaundi, and Birk robbed, or rather attempted to rob, the bank dressed as Gat.

The creak of his door brought Spade out of his thoughts. Arching his back slightly, he spotted Viola walking in. "Are you ok Jack?" Not many people knew his name, let alone could get away with using it, but Viola was one of the few. "You spooked everyone barging out like that. Kinzi joked about checking you for mind-control chips. Least I hope she was joking." "I was just thinking about the last 10 or so years." Nodding, Viola lays down next to him. "Thinking of all of those gangs you've crushed, all of that money you've made, all of..." "All of the friends I've gotten killed." He says, interrupting her. Viola was silent for a moment. "Oh, sorry, didn't mean to make such a joke about it. Who were you thinking of? Johnny?" Spade thought for a few moments before replying. "Him and Aisha and Carlos, and Lin." Viola sighed, grasping his hand in hers, before poking him in the side, giving a teasing grin. "Ever get bummed you never got to see Aisha naked?"

A brief moment of annoyance passed, before he realized she was trying to make him feel better. "Who says I didn't?" His girlfriend looked at him shocked. "You're kidding. Spill now." Reaching behind him to scratch his neck, he started his story. "Well, a few months before she died, Aisha and Johnny were having one of their tiffs, and she ended up having to stay at my apartment for a few days because her house was getting fumigated or something. To make a long story short, I had a bottle of Whiskey she found, we shared some drinks, next thing we know, I beat her in a game of blackjack, and won a striptease and lap dance." Viola looked at her boyfriend, as though she could tell by looking if he was lying or not. "Was that it? Just a tease and dance?" "That's all I really remember, though I think I did some tequila shots off of her."

Viola buried her face in his chest, her body shaking. Spade wondered if she was crying, but then he realized she was laughing. "You find that funny?" "You doing tequila shots off the naked body of the famous R&B singer Aisha? Yes, I find that very funny." Glancing at her watch, she sighed. "As fun as this is, I have a meeting with the Mayor in half an hour." Nodding and giving her a kiss, he got up off the floor and looked out the window. Yes, he had seen and sacrificed a lot, but he had gained more than he had lost. He wasn't sure if he could ever truly put the deaths of his friend behind him, but he knew he had to move forward.

Chances are I'm going to do some more chapters. I'm not sure yet. I apologize if the ending of the chapter feels rushed. Its quarter till 4 and I wanted to get this done and posted before I went to bed, and I ended up having to type the story over after it got deleted by mistake, please read and review.


	2. Chapter 2

This is my second attempt at a second chapter for Moving on. I didn't like the first on and decided to start over.

Jack Spade walked out of the shower, listening to the stereo in his room as he got dressed. Walking over to the window he looked out of the penthouse. True, he missed Stilwater on occasions, but he had grown fond of Steelport. The Saints had been tossed here with nothing, and from that, they rose up stronger than ever, even managing top defeat an elite government anti-gang unit. After he put his pants on, Viola walked in, smiling at him.

"Have a good night sleep?" She asked.

"Yeah, pretty good. Wish I could have slept longer, but oh well. What do we have planned today?" He asked as he pulled a white shirt out of the closet.

"We have a meeting with that real estate agent about the club we just bought in New York, going over final details, then you and Pierce are supposed to meet do discuss the look of the club. And then you have meetings about various Saint Holdings the rest of the day." She told him, sitting down on the bed, watching him dress.

"Don't we have legal Lee's for that?" He asked, looking through his numerous jackets, deciding which one he would wear.

"We do, but it's always better when the leader of the Saints is involved in negations. Always makes things easier to handle when people think you're personally involved. And you always are. Why is that?"

"It goes back to the early days with Julius. He was always chilling at the crib, letting me and the others do the heavy lifting. He only left the church when it was necessary. Then he turned his back on the Saints, joined Ultor and tried to blow me up, left me in a fucking coma for 5 years. During that time, everyone who ran with the Saints either died or went to jail. He got rick with Ultor, Troy became the Chief of police, and at least he gives the Saints a hand now and then."

Viola listened intently to her boyfriend talk about the man who brought him into the criminal world he all but ruled. Some gangs had tried to move in on Stilwater while the Saints fought the Syndicate and STAG, those gangs weren't around anymore.

"Whatever happened to Julius?" She asked.

"Long story short, our good friend Dex, set us up, and tried to kill us. We fought them off, almost like old times he said. But in old times, he hadn't blown me up. I shot him. Because of Julius, I had to get reconstructive surgery." Reaching into a small box, he showed her a picture of what he looked like prior to the explosion. She took the photo and couldn't stop herself from gasping. She couldn't believe this was the man standing in front of her. Shaundi and Pierce had once mentioned in the first few months they had joined the Saints he had a problem with mirror. He couldn't stand to look in his reflection without freaking. She couldn't imagine what it could have been like to look in a mirror and see someone else in the reflection. She glanced behind him, noting the broken mirror, but she decided not to mention it to him.

"I don't see anything different. Although, did you do something with your hair." She smiled at his expression. He had mentioned how everyone who had known him prior to his surgery had joked that he had done something with his hair, attempting to make him feel better about never being able to see his own face again.

"Well, after a few years, one's entitled to a change in hair styles." He told her. Pulling on his duster jacket, and putting his hat on. "The point is, I'm out there, working to improve the Saints any way I can. I never ask anyone to do what I won't do myself. And that's why I make sure to cover everything myself, at least as much as I can. If it's something that I can't handle myself, like something online hacking into some website, then I give Kinzi a call. Just because I like to oversee anything myself, doesn't mean by any stretch of the imagination that I get in over my head." Viola lifted her head, looking at him.

"You get in over your head every other day. Most of your exploits have been caused by you getting in over your head. You have the amazing and singular talent to be able to avoid death despite how much you should be killed. You took on a military platoon all on your own; you've killed thousands of people trying to take your life. You're all but unkillable."

Jack paused at the door, looking back at her.

"Johnny was just like me. I still remember his grin as he fought off the police after we killed that Ultor Exec. The guy was as tough and powerful as me on my best day. And he was killed. Everyone can be killed. Every day I might end up getting that lucky bullet in the skull. Viola, I know I'm going to die eventually. Be it in a gang war, natural causes, or the hand of god. Doesn't mean I'm not going to do everything I can to extend my life." Jack puts his hat and walks out of the room. After he walks out Viola lays back on the bed, thinking. Turning to get up, she noticed a small box on his dresser. She had noticed that box before, but had never tried to look at what was inside. Biting her thump, she glances at the door, and then picks up the box, opening it. Inside are what appear to be childhood photos. She smiled at the happy expression he had as a child, then tilted his head at a photo of him with a girl a year or so older than him. Since he appeared to be only 9 in the photo, chances are, this was a sister. But he had never mentioned a sister before, though he did mention his parents practically disowned him for joining the Saints. Putting the photo back in the box, she got up and stepped into their restroom. As she walked out, she noticed his closet door slightly open. As she went to shut it, she noticed some pieces of paper on his wall. Opening the door a bit more, she looked in and found that they were newspaper clippings about a New York detective squad called Special Victims Unit. Frowning, she wondered why he hid these clippings. However, she knew that Jack was a very private guy. If he wanted to tell her, he would.

Jack Spade sat in the empty conference room after having another day in meetings. Talking to Viola had made him remember about his childhood. He had a relatively happy childhood, but the problem was, all of a sudden his older sister Casey started to get all of the attention. His parents had given her all of the attention. When he got an award from Stilwater High for his defense on the football team, they skipped out to take Casey to dinner to celebrate her getting into law school. He had issues with that for a while. Then he joined the Saints, and then all contact had been lost. He knew that she had been running in New York for the last couple of years. Maybe he'd get to see her. Hearing Oleg talking, he sat up, taking a deep breath, getting ready for the next round of meetings.

Chapter 2 of Moving on. What do you think, read and Review? Please?


	3. Saints Vs Stag

Jack Spade drove down tapping the steering wheel with the beat of the music playing over the radio. He had decided to take a drive after having finished the last of the meetings about the club they were opening in New York City. After some discussion, Spade had decided to go with the simple name _"Saints Row"_. Slowing down as he came to a red light, he rolled down his window looking up at the sky. Things had been quiet ever since they had finished off the Luchadors and Stag was forced to leave, following his prevention of the Steelport Monuments destruction at the hands of that psycho Kia. It was then it occurred to him he hadn't heard from Angel in a while. The masked wrestler had been furious at the fact that Killbane had gotten away. But when Oleg had told him of what had transpired, he had calmed down some. It helped that the Saints had set up a "Spot Killbane" contest on their website. If someone could prove they knew where Killbane was, then they could hang out with either Shaundi or Pierce for 3 days. It was slow goings, since it had attracted the usual nut jobs, but sooner or later someone would get lucky: one way or another.

Blinking at the overhead sounds, he looked around the sky. Judging by the sounds of it, a plane was playing pretty close to the ground. He had a nagging feeling this plane sounded familiar. His eyes widens as he spotted something. Not a plane, a Stag VTOL, a black one heading right for him. Slamming his foot on the gas, he bolted forward, weaving his way in and out of traffic, trying to make sure that the aircraft didn't have a chance to get a lock onto him. Making a hard turn to the left he flipped the switch for the Nitro boost, allowing him to avoid being cooked by the microwave beam. Running wasn't something he did often, but he didn't have the firepower to take on a VTOL in his Phoenix, so his best option was to use the tight corners in the business district to try and lose whoever was on him. Having flown a VTOL before, he knew that hover mode wasn't sufficient for a chase and that jet mode didn't turn to well. Hopefully he could make it to one of his safe houses and get some big guns.

Just as he made the turn onto the Safe house's street and spotted it, homing missiles slammed into the building with an explosion, the VTOL drifting into view. Cursing, he grabbed the submachine gun in his passenger seat, using a Nitro boost to drive quickly under the VTOL, shooting at it underside. After empting the clip, he dropped it out the window and gunned the car as fast as it could to the next nearest safe house. As he neared the docks, he looked at the rearview, cursing some more as he saw missiles headed for him. Sharply turning the steering wheel he was able to avoid being hit, but the car was knocked on its side rolling along until coming to a stop on its top.

Unhooking his seatbelt he slowly climbed out of the car, trying to get the world to stop spinning around him. He was forced to cover his face with his hands as the VTOL engaged in hover mode in front of him, kicking up a lot of dust and wind. A loud squeal of feedback came from it as the pilot turned his speaker on.

"Any last words Saint?" The voice of Cyprus Temple came from the jet.

"The fuck do you want Temple? Didn't you get kicked out of Steelport?" He yelled, not sure if the former STAG leader could hear him.

"You killed one of my best subordinates and humiliated the finest military unit I ever had the honor of serving,"

"Your pet bitched tried to blow up my friends, remember?" He yelled as he pulled his revolver from his jacket holster, firing at his car shooting the gas tank and causing the car to explode, allowing him to escape for a moment. Running to the safe house, he was flung back as missiles slammed into the building. Coughing as he rolled onto his side, he considered trying to crawl away, but dismissed that thought immediately. He wouldn't be able to get very far before Temple either cooked him to death with the microwave ray or blasted him with missiles. As he sat up, he reached into his pocket for his cell phone beginning to dial Viola, then just as he was about to press call he heard tires squealing. Looking up, he saw a Silver truck pulling up, with Mayor Reynolds at the steering wheel.

"Get the fuck in!" He yelled. Jack needed no other encouragement as he jumped into the back of the truck. Reynolds floored it, causing him to stumble a bit, but he held on tight. First thing he noticed was that the Mayor had some sweet hardware in the back: some machine guns, a sonic cannon and a rocket launcher.

"Pierce said you would need some big guns." The Mayor shouted from the driver's seat.

"I knew there was a reason I kept pierce around." He shouted back as he grabbed the rocket launcher, shouldering it. As soon as he got a lock on Temple's VTOL he fired, but cursed when Temple shot it with his ray. Quickly reloading it he fired again, but missed, due to not having a good lock. Tossing the useless launcher away, he grabbed one the machine guns, firing at the VTOL until it ran out of ammo.

_This isn't working. We need a plan. _He thought, then grabbed the Sonic Cannon and tapped the window of the truck.

"When we get to that intersection up ahead, I need you to slam on the brakes."

"The fuck you say? We stop and that idiot has a bead on us." Mayor Reynolds told the Saints leader.

"Just trust me. He won't know what fucking hit him." Jack replied, making his way to the back of the truck, charging the cannon. At the intersection, Reynolds hit the brakes, stopping the truck. Unprepared for such a sudden stop, Temple flew right over them. As he passed over, Jack fired the Sonic Cannon, resulting in the fully charged blast hitting the underside of the VTOL close-range, damaging the mechanical components inside. Unable to keep level due to the damage of some of the more delicate parts inside, the VTOL crashed into a semi-truck.

Pulling over, the Mayor and Jack, the latter armed with a reloaded machine gun, made their way to the crash site. Climbing on top of the truck, he was able to get a look at the cod pit of the jet. Temple appeared to be either unconscious or dead, not that it mattered. Pointing his machine gun inside he was about to pull the trigger when he head sirens.

"Get down from there. I can cover for you, and make sure that this asshole gets what coming to him. For right now, why don't you coordinate the Saints to help the area that Temple hit, check on the injured and missing and shit?" The mayor suggested. Jack preferred his idea of putting a bullet or 30 in Temple's skull, but climbed down and called Pierce.

"Hey man, I'm glad to hear from you. When one of the crew told me you were being chased by a black jet, I wasn't sure if any help would get to you in time."

"What happened? None of the crew showed up to help, with the exception of Burt Reynolds."

"Hey, it's not our fault. A bunch of STAG guys showed up at the penthouse, most of the gang was here fighting them off. Viola called the Mayor to try and get you some backup.'

"I'm gonna have to thank her for that. How many Saints did we lose?"

"We were lucky. One of the local store owners tipped us off about them coming so they didn't have the jump on us. Only lost one guy, but he went out like a fucking hero, kept a bunch of others from getting nailed by a grenade. Lots of injuries, but nothing real serious, Zimos got shot in the ass."

"I think I'll visit him in the Hospital just to poke him about it. For right now, have Oleg bring some of the gang down to the docks. That fucker Temple wrecked this place good. Burt thinks that the local authorities will need some help with helping people."

"Shit man, when did the Saints became a part of Search and Rescue?"

"Look at it like this Pierce, imagine the headlines. _"STAG Leader fucks up Steelport, Saints Save day again."_ Probably a couple of photos of Temple and his little army blowing shit up, hurting people, and us stopping them. You can't buy publicity like that. Plus, it'll drive Hughes up the wall and up Temple's old wrinkly ass."

"DUDE, I did not need that image in my head man. Fine, I'll send the boys down to give you a hand."

"Good, and tell one of them to bring an extra ride. My Phoenix went up in flames."

Hanging up the phone, Jack sighed, looking over to Burt. The Mayor was talking to a police caption. When he saw the Jack was looking at him, he gave the Saints leader the thumbs up. Knowing that he wasn't needed, Jack made his way across the street to a liquor store, buying a beer. Drinking his beer, Jack opened up his cell phone. Glancing at the contacts he went down to Viola's number. As he did, he paused over his sister's number. Giving it some thought, he pressed call. After a few rings, she picked up.

"ADA Novak." Came the voice on the other end. Opening his mouth to reply, Jack paused, then pressed end. He hadn't talked to her in years, so phone call wouldn't do. Maybe he'd pay her a visit when he was in New York.

Been a little while with this story, but I've been busy. Please Review.


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